


Fancy Piece

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Closeted Character, Complicated Relationships, Denial of Feelings, Established Relationship, Face Slapping, Ficlet, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22698247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: A short, angsty piece about jealousy and denial - set in world where Thursday and Morse have had an intimate relationship in the past, but it's certainly now on the rocks. Fred chastises Endeavour about his inability to form solid relationships and find suitable women, but is that really what it's all about, when marrying safe, dependable Win has left Fred in need of something more - something he cannot truly admit to himself?"Some... bloody... pointless fancy piece. You need to forget these sorts and go out and find yourself a proper wife - someone stable and dependable to settle down with," he muttered, bitterly. Fred was hiding his face behind the newspaper, but he couldn't ignore Endeavour when he rose from his chair and paced forward to confront the older man.
Relationships: Endeavour Morse/Fred Thursday
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Fancy Piece

He'd have been lying if he'd said that his mind was fully on the job. His mind was on a sparkling golden chain, adorning milk-white flesh - the beginning of a plunging neckline, and down to her perfect body in that shimmering emerald dress. He was thinking about her; he was so often thinking about a 'her', that he sometimes didn't know which 'her' he was currently obsessed with. Endeavour, for all of the trust he put in logic and common sense, was a hopeless romantic - and romance wasn't very logical at all. _Fred_ knew that. Fred didn't approve of frivolous fancies; he'd made that perfectly clear.

"You're always mooning over some bird," he spat, addressing Morse, who was crumpled over his desk, hunched over his pen, trying to make notes about the case but finding himself distracted.

"So?" came the churlish response. What did it have to do with him? Well - since that fateful day, it would have _everything_ to do with him, whether Endeavour liked it or not. It was obvious that Thursday was angry with Morse; he tried to excuse himself by blaming it on Morse's handling of the case - going over everything that he had done with a fine-tooth comb, as if he hadn't been capable of investigating it himself. But Endeavour knew better - Fred was a rubbish liar and a jealous one to boot, the green-eyed monster growing larger within him for every day he and Endeavour drifted further apart. They had been close, once. And, _once_ , they had been _too_ close - and it was a mistake. He could still feel Thursday's breath tickling the hairs on the back of his neck. At one time, he only thought about 'him', and there hadn't been a 'her' in contention.

However, Fred's inner demons had soon sought to destroy the pair of them.

"Some... bloody... _pointless_ fancy piece. You need to forget these sorts and go out and find yourself a proper wife - someone stable and dependable to settle down with," he muttered, bitterly. Fred was hiding his face behind the newspaper, but he couldn't ignore Endeavour when he rose from his chair and paced forward to confront the older man.

" _Settle_ down?" Morse snarled, "Like you _settled_ for Win? When we both know what you _really_ want?"

"How dare you," Thursday bit back; he threw his broadsheet to the desk and the paper folded in on itself, the pages askew, rustling loudly as it landed - and he slapped the young policeman right across the side of his cheek. They said nothing. Endeavour breathed in and out, steadily, as Fred watched a crimson mark form on his ex-lover's skin, which still somehow looked just as beautiful as the last time Fred had touched it - when he had caressed it, lovingly and soft. These memories still lingered in the recesses of Endeavour's mind, and he found himself reaching out and taking his superior's tie in his hand, teasingly stroking the material - a bottom lip placed between his teeth.

"I bet you're after it right now," Thursday wrenched Morse's hand away, "You disgust me, lad." The auburn-haired man held a firm and unyielding gaze, with only the slightest flinch apparent around the eyes. "That wasn't me - that was _never_ me - I don't know what kind of spell you worked on me. I'm not like you. I'm a _respectable_ husband - and you are _never_ to speak about Win like that. She isn't like one of your little tarts, you know. And I... I am _not_ like you - _never_ forget that," Fred pointed at his chest, jamming his finger into Endeavour's breastbone.


End file.
